


From Butt Dial to Booty Call

by second_hand_heaven



Category: DCU
Genre: Choking Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/second_hand_heaven/pseuds/second_hand_heaven
Summary: Pretty much what it says on the tin. Grayson is having some private time when he accidentally activates the communication link to Midnighter. Phone sex ensues.





	From Butt Dial to Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

> Just some short dicknighter porn. This is the first of a few Midnighter-centric fics I've been working on recently, so you can (hopefully) expect some more dicknighter and midpollowing (Midnighter/Apollo/Dick) fics in the next coming weeks.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Midnighter wakes up, alert in an instant. His room is dark, empty aside from himself. The last scraps of his dream melt away. Pretty little Agent 37 is calling. “What can I do you for, Grayson?”

He's met with the sound of heavy panting. Is Dick in pain? Is he hurt? M frowns and sits up, his back resting against the headboard. The sheets slip low on his hips.“Dick? What's wrong?”

_“Midnighter?”_ Grayson moans, definitely _not_ in pain.

“Grayson?” he asks, his voice still rough with sleep, “Are you-?” Another moan from Dick. “You _are_!”

Dick Grayson is jerking off. While on a comm line with Midnighter. It's an accident, surely. It has to be. This is too much, even for Midnighter. He won't take advantage of this happy coincidence, no matter how much he'd love to. He should end the call, he should-

_“Keep talking,”_ Dick says, voice tight.

_Well if you insist_ , Midnighter smirks to himself. Talking is something he can definitely manage. Though, there's certainly some other things he'd like to do… He settles himself more comfortably on the bed. “What are you wearing?”

He can practically hear Dick's grin. _“Nothing.”_

Naked. Shameless. Perfect. “What are you doing? Tell me. Tell me everything.”

_“I- I'm touching myself.”_

No shit, Sherlock. “Where?”

_“My chest,”_ he pants, _“and my -ah- my cock.”_

M closes his eyes, picturing the scene. He sees Grayson laid out, completely bare against the sheets. The apartment in Blüdhaven, a safehouse somewhere in Gotham, his old room at Wayne Manor; it doesn't matter where (although that last one sounds _very_ intriguing).

_“I want you to touch me.”_ Grayson’s voice is strained. How long has he been doing this, working himself up, M wonders.

Midnighter bites his lip. “Where do you want me? If I was there, right now, where would you have me?”

_“Behind me. I'd be... I'm sitting in your lap.”_

Now he's getting into it. “Yeah? And what am I doing?” He licks his lips in anticipation.

_“You're touching me, but you're not. You won't touch my cock. You've got one hand on my throat. Not choking, just there.”_

M knows the feeling. The pressure is comforting presence, but the intent, the possibility of action, incites an excitement within.  He’d try to stifle it, bite back those perfect little sounds, but M would know, he’d feel Grayson’s moans against his palm. “Good,” M praises him. Very good indeed. “But I could choke you if I wanted to.”  

_“Yes. And you want to. Every time you do I… I move on your lap. I can't keep still.”_

He can picture it, Grayson squirming in his lap every time his hand twitches again the boy's throat. That ass, that amazing ass, grinding against his cock. And doesn't that make a pretty picture after all. He feels his cock harden within the confines of his boxers.

“If you can't be good and keep still, I'd better hold you there myself.”

_“You're holding my hip so tight you're going to leave a bruise.”_

“Will you let me? Will you let me bruise you?”

_“Yes,”_ he hisses.

He knows about Dick's ‘no marking’ rule, and a rush of pride washes over him. “Going to mark up that pretty throat of yours too. You like that?”

_“More.”_

So he does. Midnighter’s nothing less than a giving lover, after all. “You're such a fucking tease, playing with yourself but not letting me touch you.”

_“You -ah- you love it.”_

The kid has got him all figured out. “You know I do. I love the way you grind down on my cock. You're so needy. I know you want it. Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

_“So much. I want it so_ bad _,”_ he says, his voice breaking. _“I need it. But you don't want to give it to me.”_

Now that's the furthest thing from the truth. “I do, but not now. I want you to work for it. Want you to get off first. Can you do that for me?” he asks, like it's some difficult task for Dick to stroke himself to completion.

The sound of skin sliding against skin is phenomenal, but M so desperately wants to touch Dick himself. _“Uh-huh,”_ Dick says, absentmindedly.

M knows how to get Dick's attention back. “I take my hand off your throat.”

_“No!”_ he whines, and Midnighter grins a little sadistically at the sound.

“I know, I know,” M soothes, “but I want to hear every pretty sound you make.” He rubs the heel of his hand over the growing bulge in his pants, trying to take some of the edge off. It doesn't help, not with the sounds Dick keeps making. “And now I have a free hand to touch your chest. You like having your nipples played with, don't you?”

Dick gasps, and M knows just what he did: tweaking his nipples while picturing M doing it himself.

“Say it,” he growls, more forcefully this time.

_“Please. Fuck, it's so good. I want more. Please.”_

M laughs harshly. “More? What makes you think you deserve more?” It's cruel, he knows, but the impatient mewl he earns from Dick is so very worth it.

_“Please, Midnighter. I've been good, I'll be so good for you.”_

It sounds like a promise, and M might just hold him to it. It's one thing to have phone sex, it's another for them to actually… He'd be all for it, no questions, but would Dick? It doesn't matter, not now. From the noises he can't stop himself from making, M can tell just how close Grayson is.

_“I need -ah- I need it. I'm so close.”_

“No. I want you to beg for it.”

_“Please, M. Please let me come.”_

“You want it? You want to come all over yourself?”

Dick pants out something unintelligible.

That simply won't do. “Sorry, didn't quite catch that.”

_“Yes. Please. Let me come. Midnighter, please.”_

Perfect. “Come for me,” Midnighter growls.

Dick doesn't answer, but the soft whine gives him away. Fuck, it sounds gorgeous.

“Good boy.” There's a pleased smirk across his lips. “Good boy.”

 

* * *

 

There’s a flash of light at the end of Dick’s bed.  A leather-clad figure steps out of the portal, sans cowl. His boots fall heavily to the floor.

“Are you going to finish what you’ve started?” Midnighter asks, thumbs tucked under his waistband. The outline of his erection is painfully obvious in his pants.

Dick grins up at him, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. His eyes meet M’s, and his grin widens. “Come and see.”

  


_FIN_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are always welcome.
> 
> Feel free to come chat with me on my [main tumblr](http://second-hand-heaven.tumblr.com/) or my [nsfw sideblog](http://second-hand-hell.tumblr.com/)
> 
> -Nova xx


End file.
